


Hands Up, Don't Shoot

by Fanficqueen5093



Category: The Bold Type
Genre: F/F, Guns, No one gets shot., Police Brutality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 19:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15420177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanficqueen5093/pseuds/Fanficqueen5093
Summary: Kat is met with difficult circumstances. This is her journey through that and how it affects the world around her.





	1. Hands Up, Don't Shoot

**Author's Note:**

> No one asked for this. I wrote it at 2 in the morning one day and posted it. People asked me to write a sequel to it so I did. I just thought that it should have its own work.

Hands Up, Don’t Shoot

 

                  Jane and Sutton’s apartment gets broken into on a Thursday night. Kat gets a frantic call at nine thirty after having just showered and joined Adena in bed for sex and their nightly talk. They do that – talk to each other before bed, about whatever comes to mind. Just a normal night in their apartment. Jane explains that her and Sutton’s apartment is absolutely trashed and they’re with the police, and could Kat come to their apartment because Sutton is freaking out and Jane doesn’t feel safe. It isn’t even a question and Kat is pulling on her bra and the clothes she just changed out of before she’s even asked to come over. Adena is busy getting redressed as well, having caught the worried tone in Kat’s voice. Kat fills her in on the way down to the street and then they take a cab to Jane and Sutton’s apartment.

                  Kat is only really focused on seeing her friends, reminding herself that they’re safe and reassuring them that Kat is there for them. There are three cop cars in the street, lights flashing, when Kat and Adena arrive. They don’t see any officers as they’re walking up the stairs in search of Jane and Sutton, but Kat can hear talking, familiar and otherwise, coming from her friend’s apartment up the stairs.

                  The door is damaged, Kat sees as she enters the apartment. She breathes a sigh of relief when she lays eyes on Sutton and Jane, lost within the chaos of their trashed apartment but otherwise fine. There is an officer with a notepad in front of them, Kat can hear others in the bedroom, but can only see the back of his uniform as he asks Sutton questions. “Jane, Sutton,” Kat sighs out, relieved, before she steps over the threshold of the apartment, Adena on her heels, and steps forth with the intention of walking to her friends.

                  There is a moment when time seems to slow. Kat can feel Adena’s hand in hers, squeezing reassuringly, as well as the natural body heat that comes from her girlfriend. The relief that she feels at seeing her two best friends is paramount and taking over any and all emotional and physical response. She sees the moment when his hand drops down to his gun and his body shifts to face Kat, eyes wide and with intention as he pulls it from his holster and his arm slowly raises until he’s pointing it at her. There is a stillness behind her, a sudden death grip on her fingers before Kat can feel a hand fist into the material of her shirt, pulling her closer into Adena’s body, or rather Adena’s body closer to Kat’s since Kat is suddenly paralyzed. This all happens in a matter of seconds.

                  The fear that courses through her blood at seeing that gun pointed at her head is like nothing Kat has ever felt. Her breath catches, she stops breathing, and she freezes in the middle of Jane and Sutton’s living room. The jolt of dread and the rush of adrenaline has her swallowing, tears in her eyes and she locks her gaze with the officers. Kat can read his name tag from here, they couldn’t be more than three feet from one another – Jones. Jones is watching Kat over the barrel of his gun, he looks suspicious and angry. She can see the moment when his eyes shift from her to Adena, just this minute little shift, and her body reacts in instinct. Her left shoulder cants back just slightly with intent, a rogue twitch giving her away as she thinks about how she might be able to shield Adena or push her out of the way if he switches his aim, wonders if she’d be quick enough to save Adena if he fires. Just like that, his eyes are back on hers and the gun he’s holding seems a lot more deadly now than it did before – he’s made her out to be a threat, and Kat can see the intent.

                  “Put your hands up!” He orders but Kat’s ears are acting funny, like she’s got cotton in them and everything is out of focus and mumbled. He doesn’t give her time to comply with his orders before he’s ordering again, and the room is silent, no one can breathe besides the man with the gun whose pointing it at Kat. Adena immediately let’s go, Kat thinks that she might have let go as soon as the officer ordered her to show her hands, but she can’t be sure. Kat’s aware that she’s shaking and that there are tears in her eyes and that she looks as petrified as she feels. Slowly, her arms raise, and Kat is sure to show him her palms. She still hasn’t let go of his eyes and the level of anger, of mistrust that she can see there is breathtaking in its intensity.

                  Arms raised, hands shaking, body trembling, that’s when Kat hears the immediate outrage of Sutton, voice shaking in both fear and restrained rage. She’s saying something that Kat can’t understand – because there is a man with a gun, pointing said weapon at her head, and there are countless headlines flashing through her mind at situations just like this one that end in death. But she knows that Sutton is trying to talk him down, that Adena is staying silent beside her because she too is afraid of what might happen to Kat if she speaks up, having caught the hatred that previously flashed in his eyes when he locked them with her own. Kat wants to show her gratitude for that, for both of them, but she also wants Sutton to shut up because his expression is changing, and he looks even more distrustful of her than he did previously – even when Sutton explains that Kat is her best friend and Jane jumps in to defend her as well. He only seems to let up when there’s a noise at Jane’s bedroom door, another officer coming through and looking on the scene, hearing Jane and Sutton explain that Kat isn’t a danger, that she’s their friend. Kat can hear the alarmed exclamation of the other officer calling out to Jones, who stares for a few more seconds, seconds in which Kat feels like her heart is about to leap from her throat, in which her legs threaten to buckle, before he slowly lowers his gun.

                  There is a choked noise in the room, wet and breathy, and Kat only registers that it’s from herself as she begins to breathe again. She still can’t bring herself to look away from Jones, even as he glances away from her and towards the officer who interrupted their stand-off. “She shouldn’t have come in like that,” he explains, and Kat tries desperately to get her breathing under control, to not throw up all over her best friends’ carpet. There is outrage around her again – Jane and Sutton once more – but Kat can’t hear or make sense of any of it. She feels as if her world is titled on its axis and there is a tightening in her chest, the impending doom of a panic attack coming, a weight settling and making it impossible to breathe. Her stomach twirls and she wants, needs to be sick, and then Adena is there.

                  Adena who has tears in her eyes, whose hands are shaking as they pull Kat’s hands down from the air and around her waist, whose nose buries its way into her neck, pulls her tightly into her body and wraps around her – offering protection and reassurance. Kat can feel Adena sobbing, wetting her t-shirt, but all she can think about is how her back is now turned to the officer who pointed a gun at her. She’s still having trouble breathing, remembering to keep it even, and suddenly she’s lightheaded and threatening to pass out, resting more weight than normal onto Adena’s smaller frame.

                  There is a brush past her and Kat briefly locks eyes with the man who had her at gunpoint not two minutes ago. He looks hateful, angry, and Kat trembles in Adena’s arms because she’s still so afraid of him – even without the gun. When he’s out the door, followed closely by his partner who has finished speaking with Sutton and Jane, Kat’s legs give out and she’s rushing to the floor. Knees hitting the hardwood, taking her weight and eliciting pain, Adena moves forward quickly to help her, support her, before there are two warm bodies pressed to her back, Jane on her left and Sutton on her right. They’re all crying but Kat is in shock and her breathing is becoming shallower and shallower and the room starts to spin. She can’t help but feel as if she’s dying, as if she’ll never get enough air, and her stomach upheaves, something Adena notices right away as she’s searching Kat’s face.

                  There is a trash can pressed underneath her mouth and she immediately upchucks everything she had that day as soon as she catches sight of it. Dry heaving into the trash can, she wants her stomach to settle desperately because it hurts and there are tears running down her face and she’s only just able to breathe again. She doesn’t know what has calmed her down, not until her breathing is quiet enough and the ringing has stopped in her ears. Adena is singing a song in Farsi, mouth tucked close to her ear as Kat’s head leans on her chest. There is a soothing hand rubbing her back – Sutton, she thinks – and a cold cloth pressed to her neck underneath her hair – Jane. They are holding Kat so tightly that she feels warm on all sides, cocooned in this nest that they’ve created around her to keep her safe, to bring her back to them.

                  Everyone is crying – Sutton, Tiny Jane, and Adena, whose still not stopped singing even though her voice is rough and catching. Kat listens to the lilt in her voice, idly wonders at what she’s saying, and tries desperately not to think of what just happened. Because if she pictures a gun to her head again then she’ll lose it and she’ll never make it out of this apartment. And, right now, she needs to get out of this apartment. It is paramount that she gets out of this apartment and away from here.

                  “Take me home,” Kat interrupts, whispering, Adena stroking her hair, what she can reach of her face. Her voice is gutted from throwing up, her panic attack, and the crying. Her heart is still settling from the experience of the panic attack and the adrenaline from before, and her eyes droop tiredly because she’s just spent the last fifteen minutes facing death and that can tire you out, she guesses. “Please, take me home.”


	2. Hand's Up, Don't Shoot (pt.2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kat goes home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell you or make you understand how trauma affects someone. It's different for everyone. 
> 
> For me? Hyper-vigilance. I used to have this very bad before I got on anxiety medication. Whenever I would enter a place - a classroom (fuck me, especially a classroom), a movie theater (especially a movie theater), a store, a library, anywhere, I would/do have a plan of escape in case I need one. I meet peoples eyes on the streets and in stores because I'm always thinking that I might need that information if they assault me. I constantly look for exits and I want to know my options so that I can prepare more than one plan of action to get the fuck out of a situation. I carry mace, a stun gun that doubles as a heavy, metal flashlight so that I might feel somewhat better about things. But out in the dark, even when I step out of my house (MY HOUSE), I do look for dangers and cast my light over every piece of land I can see just to make sure there isn't anyone there.
> 
> I can't tell you how much it sucks to never feel safe. Not even in your own home because monsters can get you there too.

Hands Up, Don’t Shoot (pt. 2)

 

Kat is largely supported by Adena, her arm thrown over her girlfriends’ petite shoulders as she’s led down the hallway and carefully down the stairs. Her legs feel shaky and she can’t bring herself to look up. There is a part of her that feels like she’s done something wrong. It is ridiculous, she knows, but Jones’ words keep echoing in her head; ‘she shouldn’t have come in like that.’ Kat feels as if she should’ve seen this coming, shouldn’t have been so safe in her own little world of privilege to think that it couldn’t happen to her. She feels so much and nothing at all. Her mind has stopped processing what happened, and all her attention is on her surroundings.

Her ears are sensitive to each and every sound they catch – tenants whispering to each other, Adena’s breathing, Jane and Sutton behind her, and the sound of radio chatter each and every time the door to the apartment building is opened. She can feel eyes on her as she walks down the corridor towards the door. She passes by a few more cops, Kat can make them out from the corner of her eye, but they say nothing as they walk past. Everything feels surreal, as if she’s seeing it in a dream and she knows they all look a mess, but she can’t bring herself to care about much of anything at the moment.

Red and blue lights from the police cars flash and decorate the street when they all step out of the building. Kat can hear a familiar voice chatting over the radio to the station and she immediately tenses. Jones’ is still here, and Kat doesn’t want to meet his eyes but she’s hyper aware of his presence as if she were staring at him. It strikes her then that Adena is closest to him, though they are still a few yards away from one another, and it sets her on edge. Kat’s arm drops from the woman’s shoulders and to her waist, pressing her nose into the woman’s hijab and breathing her in; it is the first time that Kat feels like herself since the incident.

She’s always been incredibly protective of Adena, would go toe to toe with the woman’s worst and most dangerous enemy gladly. Those instincts allow her to wake up for just a moment and she’s placing herself, wrapping herself, protectively behind her girlfriend. Her lips find the back of the woman’s head as nails dig into her arms, and she only gets nervous when she instinctively feels Jane and Sutton leave behind her. She’s aware that it leaves her open to attack now, but she can’t turn around, can’t stop walking, because she needs to get them both out of here. Jane and Sutton were never in danger – only Adena and Kat. So, she’s not concerned with them even as she hears them ask for the stations number, full names of all officer’s present, and badge numbers.

There is a sniffle in front of her which pulls her attention away from the noise and her eyes drop down to the crown of Adena’s head. She’s crying again, clutching Kat’s arms hard enough to bruise, and this time it’s big sobs that make Kat’s eyes wet and her arms tighten. She can’t stop – not yet – so she keeps walking and continues to hold the woman as she breaks down. At one point, when Adena’s hold on her arms becomes so demanding that she’s threatening to slow their pace, Kat takes a moment to hook her arms securely around Adena’s legs and lift her. Positing the woman’s head on her shoulder, Kat supports her and holds her close as she walks down the sidewalk. She’s convinced that Jones is after them, or at least entertains the thought that he might be, and the danger she feels hasn’t dissipated in the slightest.

The pitter patter of feet alerts her to people behind her and she immediately casts a frantic look behind her back. She only relaxes when she catches sight of Jane and Sutton, who are slightly out of breath but catching up to them. Kat turns back around and ignores them for the moment. She has nothing against her friends, doesn’t hold them accountable for what happened at all, but she needs to put as much distance between Jones and them as possible. There is so much going on around her, so much noise, so many shadows, and Adena is crying, Jane and Sutton are talking… Kat feels almost frantic.

Her body becomes hot with anger, irritation, and her jaw clenches underneath Adena’s soft lips. A hand caresses her face, but she can’t take looking down and seeing her girlfriends face right now. Kat’s never been good with feelings, but she knows anger and she knows rage and if she glances down those feelings might turn into something else. Because Adena can see right through her, always has, and she’d be able to see how frantic and how terrified Kat is – she can’t let that happen. At least, not now.

When they round the corner and the apartment building is no longer in sight, Kat doesn’t relax. She spots an alleyway up ahead, a car parked outside of a shop that’s still open, and an open storefront. Her eyes search out the shadows, looking for things that could be there but aren’t, and she makes a quick plan in her head; if Jones’ pursues them then Kat will run with Adena and take cover behind the car, assuming the man is on foot. If he’s not on foot, then it’s best to head to the store. But would they believe Kat? Pessimistic voices in her head tell her that no one would believe her over a cop, that there would be no one who would offer her sanctuary because of who she is and who Jones is. They might believe Jane and Sutton.

Kat tightens her grip on Adena, hoists her tighter against herself, and walks past the car, the storefront and the alleyway.

When they come to a stop sign in the road, Jane seems to remember that they can call someone to pick them up. They all have so much on their mind right now that it doesn’t occur to them until then. Jane places a call and they wait on the curb for the driver to arrive. Adena has settled in arms, no longer crying but still sniffling, and she’s never dropped her hand from Kat’s face. So much of Kat just wants to pull her in and kiss her until they can forget about this awful night, about the fact that they could very well be dead.

“’Dena,” she murmurs quietly, glancing down at the woman whose looking up at her with the fiercest expression of love and devotion that Kat’s ever seen. It makes her eyes hurt, looking at her, and tears well there that are slowly wiped away with Adena’s thumb. It does absolutely nothing to stave off the ones still falling fresh but it’s the thought that counts and Kat can’t help but bolt forward and capture her girlfriends’ lips. It’s messy, frantic, and Adena tastes like salt but it’s a reaffirmation that they’re alive and together. It’s exactly what they both need and they don’t break apart until there’s the familiar sound of a car driving up.

Kat sits Adena down onto her feet, the woman holding her face close to her own and murmuring in Farsi, eyes closed. They’re words that Kat doesn’t understand but know in her heart; Adena is praying, talking to her God, thanking Him for their life together. It is such an Adena thing to do that it makes Kat’s breath catch and she patiently waits for the woman to get done with her prayer, ushering Jane and Sutton into the car with her eyes when they hang back and watch. Alone, Kat’s hands find Adena’s waist and encircles her with her arms, pulling her tightly into a hug. Holding her for a few moments, Adena on her tip-toes until Kat thinks to bend down to make it a little bit easier for her, Kat forgets why they’re there. She forgets about Jones, about his hate, forgets about the danger she felt only moments before, while she holds Adena close.

“I love you so much, Adena.” Kat is usually a stumbling mess each time she claims her love for the woman, but it comes easily tonight. The photographers hand finds the soft hair at the nape of Kat’s neck and strokes there, Kat sighing in content at the soft tickle.

“ _Doost-et daaram_ ,” Adena whispers, breath hot on Kat’s mouth because of how close they are to each other, “ _Kheyli doost-et daaram_.” And Kat knows what it means. They’ve been with each other romantically for a little over a year and a half now and Kat has been taking lessons and she knows what it means. They meet in the middle for a tender kiss, no rush and several soft touches of their noses, before Kat pulls away and ushers Adena into the car.

Kat hangs back. She feels naked and vulnerable with Adena not wrapped around her, unsafe without anyone by her side. But she stands in the middle of the sidewalk and casts a long look back the way they came. There is a moment when Kat feels that anger so acutely, so intensely that contemplates the image of Jones with a gun to his head. It is the first time that Kat has ever pictured herself with a gun in her hands, with the intent to do something, and it scares her. Her gaze drops to the cement before she glances up and sees Adena waiting for her, concern marring her features and a hand silently reaching out. Kat turns away, casts one long look down the block, before she catalogues every facial feature she can make out of the driver, whose sitting patiently in the dark with the glow of his cell phone illuminating his face. Just in case.

 

* * *

 

The car ride is mostly silent. Adena lays in the back with her head upon Kat’s chest, listening to her heart beat as Kat’s hands take the time to run through her hair. The radio plays softly in the background and no one talks. Halfway to Kat’s house, Kat makes out the sound of crying from the seat behind hers. She can’t really move because Adena is resting on her, but she manages to prop herself up, shushes Adena when the woman offers to move, and rests her head atop her hand as she glances back.

Jane is resting atop Sutton’s thighs, a position similar but not as involved as Adena’s atop Kat. She’s crying. It strikes Kat as odd. This entire night has felt like some sort of fever dream and she hasn’t faced the very clear reality that she escaped death tonight. Kat hasn’t met that realization head on yet, doubts that she will tonight. Abstractly, she knows that it happened – she was there – but she feels a disconnect to the world around her. Numb. But Jane is crying, and Sutton has one hand in her hair and the other in a fist against her mouth, looking out the window and detaching herself from what’s going on. Kat feels the need to comfort them regardless of how little she feels right now.

“Tiny Jane,” Kat murmurs, sweet and gentle, and watches as her friend meets her eyes. Jane’s nose is red from where she’s wiped it, her eyes are bloodshot, and her cheeks are wet. Kat thinks she looks beautiful. She’s crying for her friend when Kat really can’t do that for herself right now. Jane has always been different from Kat and Sutton. She’s emotional, and high strung. Jane cries and she’s not afraid to do so. Sutton and Kat are more alike – Sutton is emotional, but she hides it well and has this way expelling that energy into fashion or at whatever task she feels the need to meet head-on. Sutton and Jane are Kat’s superheroes and she doesn’t know what she’d do without them. Logically, she knows they’re thinking the same – what would they do without Kat? – but she can’t put the pieces together to come up with an adequate emotion for herself right now. So she extends an olive branch, meets them halfway, and her hand reaches for the both of them.

Jane catches it first and latches on, pulling it down until she can rest Kat’s hands in the middle between the two of them. Jane holds her hand and Sutton’s covers both of theirs. She’s crying, Sutton, and it’s awful watching that tower of strength fall. Kat has to look away because it feels wrong to see the normally formidable Sutton Brady break down and truly resent the world. It scares her.

The action is so like Kat. Out of the three of them, Kat is and has always been the softest. She walks around like a boss, and she is one, but everything always seems to affect Kat more. When she was small, her parents taught her how to adequately identify and explain her emotions and reactions to everything. They made her hyperaware of herself in such a way that it made her emotions stronger, demanding to be felt. When she grew up, she used tactics to hide them, bury them just so she wouldn’t have to deal with them. Each new obstacle in her life was met with resistance and a bulldozer because she just can’t let it affect her for too long.

She tries not to feel shame for the action of turning away, reminds herself that maybe tonight that’s okay to do. She glances down at Adena instead, who can barely keep her eyes open as she stares up at Kat. Hands coming to cradle the woman’s face, Kat leans down to press a soft kiss to the photographer’s forehead before glancing up and around at their surroundings. “We’re almost home,” Kat whispers, turning her attention down and seeing the nod from Adena.

When they pull up to the apartment building, Kat is the first out of the suburban, followed quickly by Adena who latches onto her arm as they glance back at Jane and Sutton who tell the driver to wait as they get out of the car. Kat wants to be alone with Adena but she can tell that her friends don’t want to let her go yet. Kat appeases them with hugs, steps up and wraps Tiny Jane in a tight one, which she almost painfully returns. “So tiny, yet so strong,” Kat murmurs into her ear, making fun of her and smiles when there’s a choked huff and a slight push as the woman steps back. Kat pretends that she doesn’t notice the return of Jane’s tears.

Sutton. Sutton has stopped crying, Kat is pleased to see, but she doesn’t think it matters; Kat can see the pain there all the same. For a moment, the blonde simply stares at her. Kat lets her, silently encourages her to take her time, and is reminded of the doctor’s visit they had with Jane when she was diagnosed with the BRCA mutation. Sutton stared at Jane the entire time the doctor talked about preventative measures, what would happen if worse came to worse, diets and exercise. Sutton stared at Jane, taking her in, and immortalizing her. Kat had only seen her do this once before when Kelly, a past assistant at Scarlet, came forth and told them that she had been diagnosed with Cancer. They hadn’t been close to her, but Sutton worked with her far more than Kat and Jane did. Sutton stared then too, offered a soft smile and tight condolences, and watched as the woman got on the elevator, stayed for a moment even after she was gone.

That same smile is offered now, wan and weird, before they forth into one another and Kat’s wrapped in a hug that’s even tighter than Jane’s. Adena still hasn’t let go of her hand, refuses to even as she sways tiredly on the sidewalk as Kat says a goodnight to her friends, so the hugs are a little awkward – especially the clumsy ones that she gets wrapped in right before they leave. When they’re back in the car, Kat pulls Adena into her side, presses several kisses to her forehead, her face, anywhere she can reach, adoring the way the woman leans into each one. “Let’s go inside,” Kat murmurs into her ear and smiles when there’s a sleepy grumble from the photographer.

Kat knows exactly what she wants to do when she’s safely back in her apartment. Safely. Safety.

She pauses before she enters the building, suspicious eyes lingering over the shadows cast by the streetlights, before casting a long look down the block from where they came. There is no one, Kat is pleased to see, but it doesn’t stop the knowing in her gut that tells her there very well could be someone there.


End file.
